IX

HAD America pursued her advantages with half the spirit that she
resisted her misfortunes, she would, before now, have been a
conquering and a peaceful people; but lulled in the lap of soft
tranquillity, she rested on her hopes, and adversity only has
convulsed her into action. Whether subtlety or sincerity at the
close of the last year induced the enemy to an appearance for peace,
is a point not material to know; it is sufficient that we see the
effects it has had on our politics, and that we sternly rise to resent
the delusion.

The war, on the part of America, has been a war of natural feelings.
Brave in distress; serene in conquest; drowsy while at rest; and in
every situation generously disposed to peace; a dangerous calm, and
a most heightened zeal have, as circumstances varied, succeeded each
other. Every passion but that of despair has been called to a tour
of duty; and so mistaken has been the enemy, of our abilities and
disposition, that when she supposed us conquered, we rose the
conquerors. The extensiveness of the United States, and the variety of
their resources; the universality of their cause, the quick
operation of their feelings, and the similarity of their sentiments,
have, in every trying situation, produced a something, which,
favored by providence, and pursued with ardor, has accomplished in
an instant the business of a campaign. We have never deliberately
sought victory, but snatched it; and bravely undone in an hour the
blotted operations of a season.

The reported fate of Charleston, like the misfortunes of 1776, has
at last called forth a spirit, and kindled up a flame, which perhaps
no other event could have produced. If the enemy has circulated a
falsehood, they have unwisely aggravated us into life, and if they
have told us the truth, they have unintentionally done us a service.
We were returning with folded arms from the fatigues of war, and
thinking and sitting leisurely down to enjoy repose. The dependence
that has been put upon Charleston threw a drowsiness over America.
We looked on the business done- the conflict over- the matter settled-
or that all which remained unfinished would follow of itself. In
this state of dangerous relaxation, exposed to the poisonous infusions
of the enemy, and having no common danger to attract our attention, we
were extinguishing, by stages, the ardor we began with, and
surrendering by piece-meal the virtue that defended us.

Afflicting as the loss of Charleston may be, yet if it universally
rouse us from the slumber of twelve months past, and renew in us the
spirit of former days, it will produce an advantage more important
than its loss. America ever is what she thinks herself to be. Governed
by sentiment, and acting her own mind, she becomes, as she pleases,
the victor or the victim.

It is not the conquest of towns, nor the accidental capture of
garrisons, that can reduce a country so extensive as this. The
sufferings of one part can never be relieved by the exertions of
another, and there is no situation the enemy can be placed in that
does not afford to us the same advantages which he seeks himself. By
dividing his force, he leaves every post attackable. It is a mode of
war that carries with it a confession of weakness, and goes on the
principle of distress rather than conquest.

The decline of the enemy is visible, not only in their operations,
but in their plans; Charleston originally made but a secondary
object in the system of attack, and it is now become their principal
one, because they have not been able to succeed elsewhere. It would
have carried a cowardly appearance in Europe had they formed their
grand expedition, in 1776, against a part of the continent where there
was no army, or not a sufficient one to oppose them; but failing
year after year in their impressions here, and to the eastward and
northward, they deserted their capital design, and prudently
contenting themselves with what they can get, give a flourish of honor
to conceal disgrace.

But this piece-meal work is not conquering the continent. It is a
discredit in them to attempt it, and in us to suffer it. It is now
full time to put an end to a war of aggravations, which, on one
side, has no possible object, and on the other has every inducement
which honor, interest, safety and happiness can inspire. If we
suffer them much longer to remain among us, we shall become as bad
as themselves. An association of vice will reduce us more than the
sword. A nation hardened in the practice of iniquity knows better
how to profit by it, than a young country newly corrupted. We are
not a match for them in the line of advantageous guilt, nor they for
us on the principles which we bravely set out with. Our first days
were our days of honor. They have marked the character of America
wherever the story of her wars are told; and convinced of this, we
have nothing to do but wisely and unitedly to tread the well known
track. The progress of a war is often as ruinous to individuals, as
the issue of it is to a nation; and it is not only necessary that
our forces be such that we be conquerors in the end, but that by
timely exertions we be secure in the interim. The present campaign
will afford an opportunity which has never presented itself before,
and the preparations for it are equally necessary, whether
Charleston stand or fall. Suppose the first, it is in that case only a
failure of the enemy, not a defeat. All the conquest that a besieged
town can hope for, is, not to be conquered; and compelling an enemy to
raise the siege, is to the besieged a victory. But there must be a
probability amounting almost to a certainty, that would justify a
garrison marching out to attack a retreat. Therefore should Charleston
not be taken, and the enemy abandon the siege, every other part of the
continent should prepare to meet them; and, on the contrary, should it
be taken, the same preparations are necessary to balance the loss, and
put ourselves in a position to co-operate with our allies, immediately
on their arrival.

We are not now fighting our battles alone, as we were in 1776;
England, from a malicious disposition to America, has not only not
declared war against France and Spain, but, the better to prosecute
her passions here, has afforded those powers no military object, and
avoids them, to distress us. She will suffer her West India islands to
be overrun by France, and her southern settlements to be taken by
Spain, rather than quit the object that gratifies her revenge. This
conduct, on the part of Britain, has pointed out the propriety of
France sending a naval and land force to co-operate with America on
the spot. Their arrival cannot be very distant, nor the ravages of the
enemy long. The recruiting the army, and procuring the supplies, are
the two things most necessary to be accomplished, and a capture of
either of the enemy's divisions will restore to America peace and
plenty.

At a crisis, big, like the present, with expectation and events, the
whole country is called to unanimity and exertion. Not an ability
ought now to sleep, that can produce but a mite to the general good,
nor even a whisper to pass that militates against it. The necessity of
the case, and the importance of the consequences, admit no delay
from a friend, no apology from an enemy. To spare now, would be the
height of extravagance, and to consult present ease, would be to
sacrifice it perhaps forever.

America, rich in patriotism and produce, can want neither men nor
supplies, when a serious necessity calls them forth. The slow
operation of taxes, owing to the extensiveness of collection, and
their depreciated value before they arrived in the treasury, have,
in many instances, thrown a burden upon government, which has been
artfully interpreted by the enemy into a general decline throughout
the country. Yet this, inconvenient as it may at first appear, is
not only remediable, but may be turned to an immediate advantage;
for it makes no real difference, whether a certain number of men, or
company of militia (and in this country every man is a militia-man),
are directed by law to send a recruit at their own expense, or whether
a tax is laid on them for that purpose, and the man hired by
government afterwards. The first, if there is any difference, is
both cheapest and best, because it saves the expense which would
attend collecting it as a tax, and brings the man sooner into the
field than the modes of recruiting formerly used; and, on this
principle, a law has been passed in this state, for recruiting two men
from each company of militia, which will add upwards of a thousand
to the force of the country.

But the flame which has broken forth in this city since the report
from New York, of the loss of Charleston, not only does honor to the
place, but, like the blaze of 1776, will kindle into action the
scattered sparks throughout America. The valor of a country may be
learned by the bravery of its soldiery, and the general cast of its
inhabitants, but confidence of success is best discovered by the
active measures pursued by men of property; and when the spirit of
enterprise becomes so universal as to act at once on all ranks of men,
a war may then, and not till then, be styled truly popular.

In 1776, the ardor of the enterprising part was considerably checked
by the real revolt of some, and the coolness of others. But in the
present case, there is a firmness in the substance and property of the
country to the public cause. An association has been entered into by
the merchants, tradesmen, and principal inhabitants of the city
[Philadelphia], to receive and support the new state money at the
value of gold and silver; a measure which, while it does them honor,
will likewise contribute to their interest, by rendering the
operations of the campaign convenient and effectual.

Nor has the spirit of exertion stopped here. A voluntary
subscription is likewise begun, to raise a fund of hard money, to be
given as bounties, to fill up the full quota of the Pennsylvania line.
It has been the remark of the enemy, that every thing in America has
been done by the force of government; but when she sees individuals
throwing in their voluntary aid, and facilitating the public
measures in concert with the established powers of the country, it
will convince her that the cause of America stands not on the will
of a few but on the broad foundation of property and popularity.

Thus aided and thus supported, disaffection will decline, and the
withered head of tyranny expire in America. The ravages of the enemy
will be short and limited, and like all their former ones, will
produce a victory over themselves.

COMMON SENSE.

PHILADELPHIA, June 9, 1780.

P. S. At the time of writing this number of the Crisis, the loss
of Charleston, though believed by some, was more confidently
disbelieved by others. But there ought to be no longer a doubt upon
the matter. Charleston is gone, and I believe for the want of a
sufficient supply of provisions. The man that does not now feel for
the honor of the best and noblest cause that ever a country engaged
in, and exert himself accordingly, is no longer worthy of a
peaceable residence among a people determined to be free.

C. S.

THE CRISIS EXTRAORDINARY ON THE SUBJECT OF TAXATION.

IT IS impossible to sit down and think seriously on the affairs of
America, but the original principles upon which she resisted, and
the glow and ardor which they inspired, will occur like the
undefaced remembrance of a lovely scene. To trace over in
imagination the purity of the cause, the voluntary sacrifices that
were made to support it, and all the various turnings of the war in
its defence, is at once both paying and receiving respect. The
principles deserve to be remembered, and to remember them rightly is
repossessing them. In this indulgence of generous recollection, we
become gainers by what we seem to give, and the more we bestow the
richer we become.

So extensively right was the ground on which America proceeded, that
it not only took in every just and liberal sentiment which could
impress the heart, but made it the direct interest of every class
and order of men to defend the country. The war, on the part of
Britain, was originally a war of covetousness. The sordid and not
the splendid passions gave it being. The fertile fields and prosperous
infancy of America appeared to her as mines for tributary wealth.
She viewed the hive, and disregarding the industry that had enriched
it, thirsted for the honey. But in the present stage of her affairs,
the violence of temper is added to the rage of avarice; and therefore,
that which at the first setting out proceeded from purity of principle
and public interest, is now heightened by all the obligations of
necessity; for it requires but little knowledge of human nature to
discern what would be the consequence, were America again reduced to
the subjection of Britain. Uncontrolled power, in the hands of an
incensed, imperious, and rapacious conqueror, is an engine of dreadful
execution, and woe be to that country over which it can be
exercised. The names of Whig and Tory would then be sunk in the
general term of rebel, and the oppression, whatever it might be,
would, with very few instances of exception, light equally on all.

Britain did not go to war with America for the sake of dominion,
because she was then in possession; neither was it for the extension
of trade and commerce, because she had monopolized the whole, and
the country had yielded to it; neither was it to extinguish what she
might call rebellion, because before she began no resistance
existed. It could then be from no other motive than avarice, or a
design of establishing, in the first instance, the same taxes in
America as are paid in England (which, as I shall presently show,
are above eleven times heavier than the taxes we now pay for the
present year, 1780) or, in the second instance, to confiscate the
whole property of America, in case of resistance and conquest of the
latter, of which she had then no doubt.

I shall now proceed to show what the taxes in England are, and
what the yearly expense of the present war is to her- what the taxes
of this country amount to, and what the annual expense of defending it
effectually will be to us; and shall endeavor concisely to point out
the cause of our difficulties, and the advantages on one side, and the
consequences on the other, in case we do, or do not, put ourselves
in an effectual state of defence. I mean to be open, candid, and
sincere. I see a universal wish to expel the enemy from the country, a
murmuring because the war is not carried on with more vigor, and my
intention is to show, as shortly as possible, both the reason and
the remedy.

The number of souls in England (exclusive of Scotland and Ireland)
is seven millions,* and the number of souls in America is three
millions.

* This is taking the highest number that the people of England
have been, or can be rated at.

The amount of taxes in England (exclusive of Scotland and Ireland)
was, before the present war commenced, eleven millions six hundred and
forty-two thousand six hundred and fifty-three pounds sterling; which,
on an average, is no less a sum than one pound thirteen shillings
and three-pence sterling per head per annum, men, women, and children;
besides county taxes, taxes for the support of the poor, and a tenth
of all the produce of the earth for the support of the bishops and
clergy.* Nearly five millions of this sum went annually to pay the
interest of the national debt, contracted by former wars, and the
remaining sum of six millions six hundred and forty-two thousand six
hundred pounds was applied to defray the yearly expense of government,
the peace establishment of the army and navy, placemen, pensioners,
etc.; consequently the whole of the enormous taxes being thus
appropriated, she had nothing to spare out of them towards defraying
the expenses of the present war or any other. Yet had she not been
in debt at the beginning of the war, as we were not, and, like us, had
only a land and not a naval war to carry on, her then revenue of
eleven millions and a half pounds sterling would have defrayed all her
annual expenses of war and government within each year.

* The following is taken from Dr. Price's state of the taxes of
England.

An account of the money drawn from the public by taxes, annually,
being the medium of three years before the year 1776.

Interest of loans on the land tax at 4s. expenses
of collection, militia, etc.

250,000

Perquisites, etc. to custom-house officers, &c. supposed

250,000

Expense of collecting the salt duties in England 10 1/2 per cent.

27,000

Bounties on fish exported

18,000

Expense of collecting the duties on stamps, cards,
advertisements, etc. at 5 and 1/4 per cent.

18,000

Total 11,642,653 L.

But this not being the case with her, she is obliged to borrow about
ten millions pounds sterling, yearly, to prosecute the war that she is
now engaged in, (this year she borrowed twelve) and lay on new taxes
to discharge the interest; allowing that the present war has cost
her only fifty millions sterling, the interest thereon, at five per
cent., will be two millions and an half; therefore the amount of her
taxes now must be fourteen millions, which on an average is no less
than forty shillings sterling, per head, men, women and children,
throughout the nation. Now as this expense of fifty millions was
borrowed on the hopes of conquering America, and as it was avarice
which first induced her to commence the war, how truly wretched and
deplorable would the condition of this country be, were she, by her
own remissness, to suffer an enemy of such a disposition, and so
circumstanced, to reduce her to subjection.

I now proceed to the revenues of America.

I have already stated the number of souls in America to be three
millions, and by a calculation that I have made, which I have every
reason to believe is sufficiently correct, the whole expense of the
war, and the support of the several governments, may be defrayed for
two million pounds sterling annually; which, on an average, is
thirteen shillings and four pence per head, men, women, and
children, and the peace establishment at the end of the war will be
but three quarters of a million, or five shillings sterling per
head. Now, throwing out of the question everything of honor,
principle, happiness, freedom, and reputation in the world, and taking
it up on the simple ground of interest, I put the following case:

Suppose Britain was to conquer America, and, as a conqueror, was
to lay her under no other conditions than to pay the same proportion
towards her annual revenue which the people of England pay: our share,
in that case, would be six million pounds sterling yearly. Can it then
be a question, whether it is best to raise two millions to defend
the country, and govern it ourselves, and only three quarters of a
million afterwards, or pay six millions to have it conquered, and
let the enemy govern it?

Can it be supposed that conquerors would choose to put themselves in
a worse condition than what they granted to the conquered? In England,
the tax on rum is five shillings and one penny sterling per gallon,
which is one silver dollar and fourteen coppers. Now would it not be
laughable to imagine, that after the expense they have been at, they
would let either Whig or Tory drink it cheaper than themselves?
Coffee, which is so inconsiderable an article of consumption and
support here, is there loaded with a duty which makes the price
between five and six shillings per pound, and a penalty of fifty
pounds sterling on any person detected in roasting it in his own
house. There is scarcely a necessary of life that you can eat,
drink, wear, or enjoy, that is not there loaded with a tax; even the
light from heaven is only permitted to shine into their dwellings by
paying eighteen pence sterling per window annually; and the humblest
drink of life, small beer, cannot there be purchased without a tax
of nearly two coppers per gallon, besides a heavy tax upon the malt,
and another on the hops before it is brewed, exclusive of a land-tax
on the earth which produces them. In short, the condition of that
country, in point of taxation, is so oppressive, the number of her
poor so great, and the extravagance and rapaciousness of the court
so enormous, that, were they to effect a conquest of America, it is
then only that the distresses of America would begin. Neither would it
signify anything to a man whether he be Whig or Tory. The people of
England, and the ministry of that country, know us by no such
distinctions. What they want is clear, solid revenue, and the modes
which they would take to procure it, would operate alike on all. Their
manner of reasoning would be short, because they would naturally
infer, that if we were able to carry on a war of five or six years
against them, we were able to pay the same taxes which they do.

I have already stated that the expense of conducting the present
war, and the government of the several states, may be done for two
millions sterling, and the establishment in the time of peace, for
three quarters of a million.*

* I have made the calculations in sterling, because it is a rate
generally known in all the states, and because, likewise, it admits of
an easy comparison between our expenses to support the war, and
those of the enemy. Four silver dollars and a half is one pound
sterling, and three pence over.

As to navy matters, they flourish so well, and are so well
attended to by individuals, that I think it consistent on every
principle of real use and economy, to turn the navy into hard money
(keeping only three or four packets) and apply it to the service of
the army. We shall not have a ship the less; the use of them, and
the benefit from them, will be greatly increased, and their expense
saved. We are now allied with a formidable naval power, from whom we
derive the assistance of a navy. And the line in which we can
prosecute the war, so as to reduce the common enemy and benefit the
alliance most effectually, will be by attending closely to the land
service.

I estimate the charge of keeping up and maintaining an army,
officering them, and all expenses included, sufficient for the defence
of the country, to be equal to the expense of forty thousand men at
thirty pounds sterling per head, which is one million two hundred
thousand pounds.

I likewise allow four hundred thousand pounds for continental
expenses at home and abroad.

And four hundred thousand pounds for the support of the several
state governments- the amount will then be:

For the army

1,200,000 L.

Continental expenses at home and abroad

400,000

Government of the several states

400,000

Total 2,000,000 L.

I take the proportion of this state, Pennsylvania, to be an eighth
part of the thirteen United States; the quota then for us to raise
will be two hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling; two hundred
thousand of which will be our share for the support and pay of the
army, and continental expenses at home and abroad, and fifty
thousand pounds for the support of the state government.

In order to gain an idea of the proportion in which the raising such
a sum will fall, I make the following calculation:

Pennsylvania contains three hundred and seventy-five thousand
inhabitants, men, women and children; which is likewise an eighth of
the number of inhabitants of the whole United States: therefore, two
hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling to be raised among three
hundred and seventy-five thousand persons, is, on an average, thirteen
shillings and four pence per head, per annum, or something more than
one shilling sterling per month. And our proportion of three
quarters of a million for the government of the country, in time of
peace, will be ninety-three thousand seven hundred and fifty pounds
sterling; fifty thousand of which will be for the government
expenses of the state, and forty-three thousand seven hundred and
fifty pounds for continental expenses at home and abroad.

The peace establishment then will, on an average, be five
shillings sterling per head. Whereas, was England now to stop, and the
war cease, her peace establishment would continue the same as it is
now, viz. forty shillings per head; therefore was our taxes
necessary for carrying on the war, as much per head as hers now is,
and the difference to be only whether we should, at the end of the
war, pay at the rate of five shillings per head, or forty shillings
per head, the case needs no thinking of. But as we can securely defend
and keep the country for one third less than what our burden would
be if it was conquered, and support the governments afterwards for one
eighth of what Britain would levy on us, and could I find a miser
whose heart never felt the emotion of a spark of principle, even
that man, uninfluenced by every love but the love of money, and
capable of no attachment but to his interest, would and must, from the
frugality which governs him, contribute to the defence of the country,
or he ceases to be a miser and becomes an idiot. But when we take in
with it every thing that can ornament mankind; when the line of our
interest becomes the line of our happiness; when all that can cheer
and animate the heart, when a sense of honor, fame, character, at home
and abroad, are interwoven not only with the security but the increase
of property, there exists not a man in America, unless he be an
hired emissary, who does not see that his good is connected with
keeping up a sufficient defence.

I do not imagine that an instance can be produced in the world, of a
country putting herself to such an amazing charge to conquer and
enslave another, as Britain has done. The sum is too great for her
to think of with any tolerable degree of temper; and when we
consider the burden she sustains, as well as the disposition she has
shown, it would be the height of folly in us to suppose that she would
not reimburse herself by the most rapid means, had she America once
more within her power. With such an oppression of expense, what
would an empty conquest be to her! What relief under such
circumstances could she derive from a victory without a prize? It
was money, it was revenue she first went to war for, and nothing but
that would satisfy her. It is not the nature of avarice to be
satisfied with any thing else. Every passion that acts upon mankind
has a peculiar mode of operation. Many of them are temporary and
fluctuating; they admit of cessation and variety. But avarice is a
fixed, uniform passion. It neither abates of its vigor nor changes its
object; and the reason why it does not, is founded in the nature of
things, for wealth has not a rival where avarice is a ruling
passion. One beauty may excel another, and extinguish from the mind of
man the pictured remembrance of a former one: but wealth is the
phoenix of avarice, and therefore it cannot seek a new object, because
there is not another in the world.

I now pass on to show the value of the present taxes, and compare
them with the annual expense; but this I shall preface with a few
explanatory remarks.

There are two distinct things which make the payment of taxes
difficult; the one is the large and real value of the sum to be
paid, and the other is the scarcity of the thing in which the
payment is to be made; and although these appear to be one and the
same, they are in several instances riot only different, but the
difficulty springs from different causes.

Suppose a tax to be laid equal to one half of what a man's yearly
income is, such a tax could not be paid, because the property could
not be spared; and on the other hand, suppose a very trifling tax
was laid, to be collected in pearls, such a tax likewise could not
be paid, because they could not be had. Now any person may see that
these are distinct cases, and the latter of them is a representation
of our own.

That the difficulty cannot proceed from the former, that is, from
the real value or weight of the tax, is evident at the first view to
any person who will consider it.

The amount of the quota of taxes for this State for the year,
1780, (and so in proportion for every other State,) is twenty millions
of dollars, which at seventy for one, is but sixty-four thousand two
hundred and eighty pounds three shillings sterling, and on an average,
is no more than three shillings and five pence sterling per head,
per annum, per man, woman and child, or threepence two-fifths per head
per month. Now here is a clear, positive fact, that cannot be
contradicted, and which proves that the difficulty cannot be in the
weight of the tax, for in itself it is a trifle, and far from being
adequate to our quota of the expense of the war. The quit-rents of one
penny sterling per acre on only one half of the state, come to upwards
of fifty thousand pounds, which is almost as much as all the taxes
of the present year, and as those quit-rents made no part of the taxes
then paid, and are now discontinued, the quantity of money drawn for
public-service this year, exclusive of the militia fines, which I
shall take notice of in the process of this work, is less than what
was paid and payable in any year preceding the revolution, and since
the last war; what I mean is, that the quit-rents and taxes taken
together came to a larger sum then, than the present taxes without the
quit-rents do now.

My intention by these arguments and calculations is to place the
difficulty to the right cause, and show that it does not proceed
from the weight or worth of the tax, but from the scarcity of the
medium in which it is paid; and to illustrate this point still
further, I shall now show, that if the tax of twenty millions of
dollars was of four times the real value it now is, or nearly so,
which would be about two hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling,
and would be our full quota, this sum would have been raised with more
ease, and have been less felt, than the present sum of only sixty-four
thousand two hundred and eighty pounds.

The convenience or inconvenience of paying a tax in money arises
from the quantity of money that can be spared out of trade.

When the emissions stopped, the continent was left in possession
of two hundred millions of dollars, perhaps as equally dispersed as it
was possible for trade to do it. And as no more was to be issued,
the rise or fall of prices could neither increase nor diminish the
quantity. It therefore remained the same through all the
fluctuations of trade and exchange.

Now had the exchange stood at twenty for one, which was the rate
Congress calculated upon when they arranged the quota of the several
states, the latter end of last year, trade would have been carried
on for nearly four times less money than it is now, and consequently
the twenty millions would have been spared with much greater ease, and
when collected would have been of almost four times the value that
they now are. And on the other hand, was the depreciation to be ninety
or one hundred for one, the quantity required for trade would be
more than at sixty or seventy for one, and though the value of them
would be less, the difficulty of sparing the money out of trade
would be greater. And on these facts and arguments I rest the
matter, to prove that it is not the want of property, but the scarcity
of the medium by which the proportion of property for taxation is to
be measured out, that makes the embarrassment which we lie under.
There is not money enough, and, what is equally as true, the people
will not let there be money enough.

While I am on the subject of the currency, I shall offer one
remark which will appear true to everybody, and can be accounted for
by nobody, which is, that the better the times were, the worse the
money grew; and the worse the times were, the better the money
stood. It never depreciated by any advantage obtained by the enemy.
The troubles of 1776, and the loss of Philadelphia in 1777, made no
sensible impression on it, and every one knows that the surrender of
Charleston did not produce the least alteration in the rate of
exchange, which, for long before, and for more than three months
after, stood at sixty for one. It seems as if the certainty of its
being our own, made us careless of its value, and that the most
distant thoughts of losing it made us hug it the closer, like
something we were loth to part with; or that we depreciate it for
our pastime, which, when called to seriousness by the enemy, we
leave off to renew again at our leisure. In short, our good luck seems
to break us, and our bad makes us whole.

Passing on from this digression, I shall now endeavor to bring
into one view the several parts which I have already stated, and
form thereon some propositions, and conclude.

I have placed before the reader, the average tax per head, paid by
the people of England; which is forty shillings sterling.

And I have shown the rate on an average per head, which will
defray all the expenses of the war to us, and support the several
governments without running the country into debt, which is thirteen
shillings and four pence.

I have shown what the peace establishment may be conducted for,
viz., an eighth part of what it would be, if under the government of
Britain.

And I have likewise shown what the average per head of the present
taxes is, namely, three shillings and fivepence sterling, or
threepence two-fifths per month; and that their whole yearly value, in
sterling, is only sixty-four thousand two hundred and eighty pounds.
Whereas our quota, to keep the payments equal with the expenses, is
two hundred and fifty thousand pounds. Consequently, there is a
deficiency of one hundred and eighty-five thousand seven hundred and
twenty pounds, and the same proportion of defect, according to the
several quotas, happens in every other state. And this defect is the
cause why the army has been so indifferently fed, clothed and paid. It
is the cause, likewise, of the nerveless state of the campaign, and
the insecurity of the country. Now, if a tax equal to thirteen and
fourpence per head, will remove all these difficulties, and make
people secure in their homes, leave them to follow the business of
their stores and farms unmolested, and not only drive out but keep out
the enemy from the country; and if the neglect of raising this sum
will let them in, and produce the evils which might be prevented- on
which side, I ask, does the wisdom, interest and policy lie? Or,
rather, would it not be an insult to reason, to put the question?
The sum, when proportioned out according to the several abilities of
the people, can hurt no one, but an inroad from the enemy ruins
hundreds of families.

Look at the destruction done in this city [Philadelphia]. The many
houses totally destroyed, and others damaged; the waste of fences in
the country round it, besides the plunder of furniture, forage, and
provisions. I do not suppose that half a million sterling would
reinstate the sufferers; and, does this, I ask, bear any proportion to
the expense that would make us secure? The damage, on an average, is
at least ten pounds sterling per head, which is as much as thirteen
shillings and fourpence per head comes to for fifteen years. The
same has happened on the frontiers, and in the Jerseys, New York,
and other places where the enemy has been- Carolina and Georgia are
likewise suffering the same fate.

That the people generally do not understand the insufficiency of the
taxes to carry on the war, is evident, not only from common
observation, but from the construction of several petitions which were
presented to the Assembly of this state, against the recommendation of
Congress of the 18th of March last, for taking up and funding the
present currency at forty to one, and issuing new money in its
stead. The prayer of the petition was, that the currency might be
appreciated by taxes (meaning the present taxes) and that part of
the taxes be applied to the support of the army, if the army could not
be otherwise supported. Now it could not have been possible for such a
petition to have been presented, had the petitioners known, that so
far from part of the taxes being sufficient for the support of the
whole of them falls three-fourths short of the year's expenses.

Before I proceed to propose methods by which a sufficiency of
money may be raised, I shall take a short view of the general state of
the country.

Notwithstanding the weight of the war, the ravages of the enemy, and
the obstructions she has thrown in the way of trade and commerce, so
soon does a young country outgrow misfortune, that America has already
surmounted many that heavily oppressed her. For the first year or
two of the war, we were shut up within our ports, scarce venturing
to look towards the ocean. Now our rivers are beautified with large
and valuable vessels, our stores filled with merchandise, and the
produce of the country has a ready market, and an advantageous
price. Gold and silver, that for a while seemed to have retreated
again within the bowels of the earth, have once more risen into
circulation, and every day adds new strength to trade, commerce and
agriculture. In a pamphlet, written by Sir John Dalrymple, and
dispersed in America in the year 1775, he asserted that two twenty-gun
ships, nay, says he, tenders of those ships, stationed between
Albermarle sound and Chesapeake bay, would shut up the trade of
America for 600 miles. How little did Sir John Dalrymple know of the
abilities of America!

While under the government of Britain, the trade of this country was
loaded with restrictions. It was only a few foreign ports which we
were allowed to sail to. Now it is otherwise; and allowing that the
quantity of trade is but half what it was before the war, the case
must show the vast advantage of an open trade, because the present
quantity under her restrictions could not support itself; from which I
infer, that if half the quantity without the restrictions can bear
itself up nearly, if not quite, as well as the whole when subject to
them, how prosperous must the condition of America be when the whole
shall return open with all the world. By the trade I do not mean the
employment of a merchant only, but the whole interest and business
of the country taken collectively.

It is not so much my intention, by this publication, to propose
particular plans for raising money, as it is to show the necessity and
the advantages to be derived from it. My principal design is to form
the disposition of the people to the measures which I am fully
persuaded it is their interest and duty to adopt, and which need no
other force to accomplish them than the force of being felt. But as
every hint may be useful, I shall throw out a sketch, and leave others
to make such improvements upon it as to them may appear reasonable.

The annual sum wanted is two millions, and the average rate in which
it falls, is thirteen shillings and fourpence per head.

Suppose, then, that we raise half the sum and sixty thousand
pounds over. The average rate thereof will be seven shillings per
head.

In this case we shall have half the supply that we want, and an
annual fund of sixty thousand pounds whereon to borrow the other
million; because sixty thousand pounds is the interest of a million at
six per cent.; and if at the end of another year we should be obliged,
by the continuance of the war, to borrow another million, the taxes
will be increased to seven shillings and sixpence; and thus for
every million borrowed, an additional tax, equal to sixpence per head,
must be levied.

The sum to be raised next year will be one million and sixty
thousand pounds: one half of which I would propose should be raised by
duties on imported goods, and prize goods, and the other half by a tax
on landed property and houses, or such other means as each state may
devise.

But as the duties on imports and prize goods must be the same in all
the states, therefore the rate per cent., or what other form the
duty shall be laid, must be ascertained and regulated by Congress, and
ingrafted in that form into the law of each state; and the monies
arising therefrom carried into the treasury of each state. The
duties to be paid in gold or silver.

There are many reasons why a duty on imports is the most
convenient duty or tax that can be collected; one of which is, because
the whole is payable in a few places in a country, and it likewise
operates with the greatest ease and equality, because as every one
pays in proportion to what he consumes, so people in general consume
in proportion to what they can afford; and therefore the tax is
regulated by the abilities which every man supposes himself to have,
or in other words, every man becomes his own assessor, and pays by a
little at a time, when it suits him to buy. Besides, it is a tax which
people may pay or let alone by not consuming the articles; and
though the alternative may have no influence on their conduct, the
power of choosing is an agreeable thing to the mind. For my own
part, it would be a satisfaction to me was there a duty on all sorts
of liquors during the war, as in my idea of things it would be an
addition to the pleasures of society to know, that when the health
of the army goes round, a few drops, from every glass becomes
theirs. How often have I heard an emphatical wish, almost
accompanied by a tear, "Oh, that our poor fellows in the field had
some of this!" Why then need we suffer under a fruitless sympathy,
when there is a way to enjoy both the wish and the entertainment at
once.

But the great national policy of putting a duty upon imports is,
that it either keeps the foreign trade in our own hands, or draws
something for the defence of the country from every foreigner who
participates in it with us.

Thus much for the first half of the taxes, and as each state will
best devise means to raise the other half, I shall confine my
remarks to the resources of this state.

The quota, then, of this state, of one million and sixty thousand
pounds, will be one hundred and thirty-three thousand two hundred
and fifty pounds, the half of which is sixty-six thousand six
hundred and twenty-five pounds; and supposing one fourth part of
Pennsylvania inhabited, then a tax of one bushel of wheat on every
twenty acres of land, one with another, would produce the sum, and all
the present taxes to cease. Whereas, the tithes of the bishops and
clergy in England, exclusive of the taxes, are upwards of half a
bushel of wheat on every single acre of land, good and bad, throughout
the nation.

In the former part of this paper, I mentioned the militia fines, but
reserved speaking of the matter, which I shall now do. The ground I
shall put it upon is, that two millions sterling a year will support a
sufficient army, and all the expenses of war and government, without
having recourse to the inconvenient method of continually calling
men from their employments, which, of all others, is the most
expensive and the least substantial. I consider the revenues created
by taxes as the first and principal thing, and fines only as secondary
and accidental things. It was not the intention of the militia law
to apply the fines to anything else but the support of the militia,
neither do they produce any revenue to the state, yet these fines
amount to more than all the taxes: for taking the muster-roll to be
sixty thousand men, the fine on forty thousand who may not attend,
will be sixty thousand pounds sterling, and those who muster, will
give up a portion of time equal to half that sum, and if the eight
classes should be called within the year, and one third turn out,
the fine on the remaining forty thousand would amount to seventy-two
millions of dollars, besides the fifteen shillings on every hundred
pounds of property, and the charge of seven and a half per cent. for
collecting, in certain instances which, on the whole, would be upwards
of two hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling.

Now if those very fines disable the country from raising a
sufficient revenue without producing an equivalent advantage, would it
not be for the ease and interest of all parties to increase the
revenue, in the manner I have proposed, or any better, if a better can
be devised, and cease the operation of the fines? I would still keep
the militia as an organized body of men, and should there be a real
necessity to call them forth, pay them out of the proper revenues of
the state, and increase the taxes a third or fourth per cent. on those
who do not attend. My limits will not allow me to go further into this
matter, which I shall therefore close with this remark; that fines
are, of all modes of revenue, the most unsuited to the minds of a free
country. When a man pays a tax, he knows that the public necessity
requires it, and therefore feels a pride in discharging his duty;
but a fine seems an atonement for neglect of duty, and of
consequence is paid with discredit, and frequently levied with
severity.

I have now only one subject more to speak of, with which I shall
conclude, which is, the resolve of Congress of the 18th of March last,
for taking up and funding the present currency at forty for one, and
issuing new money in its stead.

Every one knows that I am not the flatterer of Congress, but in this
instance they are right; and if that measure is supported, the
currency will acquire a value, which, without it, it will not. But
this is not all: it will give relief to the finances until such time
as they can be properly arranged, and save the country from being
immediately doubled taxed under the present mode. In short, support
that measure, and it will support you.

I have now waded through a tedious course of difficult business, and
over an untrodden path. The subject, on every point in which it
could be viewed, was entangled with perplexities, and enveloped in
obscurity, yet such are the resources of America, that she wants
nothing but system to secure success.

COMMON SENSE.

PHILADELPHIA, Oct. 4, 1780.

P. S. While this paper was preparing for the press, the treachery of
General Arnold became known, and engrossed the attention and
conversation of the public; and that, not so much on account of the
traitor as the magnitude of the treason, and the providence evident in
the discovery. The matter, as far as it is at present known, is thus
briefly related:

General Arnold about six weeks before had obtained the command of
the important post of West Point, situated on the North River, about
sixty miles above New York, and an hundred below Albany, there being
no other defenceable pass between it and the last mentioned place.
At what time, or in what manner, he first entered into a negotiation
with the enemy for betraying the fort and garrison into their hands,
does not yet appear.

While Arnold commanded at West Point, General Washington and the
Minister of France went to Hartford in Connecticut, to consult on
matters, in concert with Admiral Terney, commander of the French fleet
stationed at Rhode Island. In the mean time Arnold held a conference
with Major Andre, Adjutant-General to General Clinton, whom he
traitorously furnished with plans of the fort, state of the
garrison, minutes of the last council of war, and the manner in
which he would post the troops when the enemy should attempt a
surprise; and then gave him a pass, by the name of Mr. John
Anderson, to go to the lines at the White Plains or lower, if he Mr.
Anderson thought proper, he being (the pass said) on public business.

Thus furnished Andre parted from Arnold, set off for New York, and
had nearly arrived at the extent of our lines, when he was stopped
by a party of militia, to whom he produced his pass, but they, not
being satisfied with his account, insisted on taking him before the
commanding officer, Lieut. Col. Jamieson. Finding himself in this
situation, and hoping to escape by a bribe, he offered them his purse,
watch and a promise of any quantity of goods they would accept,
which these honest men nobly and virtuously scorned, and confident
with their duty took him to the proper officer. On examination there
was found on him the above mentioned papers and several others, all in
the handwriting of General Arnold, and finding himself thus
detected, he confessed his proper name and character. He was
accordingly made a close prisoner, and the papers sent off by
express to West Point, at which place General Washington had arrived
soon after the arrival of the packet. On this disclosure, he went in
quest of Arnold, whom he had not seen that day, but all that could
be learned was that Arnold had received a letter some short time
before which had much confused him, since which he had disappeared.
Colonel Hamilton, one of General Washington's aids, with some others
were sent after him, but he, having the start, eluded the pursuit,
took boat under pretence of a flag, and got on board the Vulture sloop
of war lying in the North River; on which it may be truly said, that
one vulture was receiving another. From on board this vessel he
addressed a letter to General Washington, which, in whatever light
it may be viewed, confirms him a finished villain.

The true character of Arnold is that of a desperado. His whole
life has been a life of jobs; and where either plunder or profit was
the object, no danger deterred, no principle restrained him. In his
person he was smart and active, somewhat diminutive, weak in his
capacities and trifling in his conversation; and though gallant in the
field, was defective in the talents necessary for command. The early
convulsion of the times afforded him an introduction into life, to the
elegance of which he was before a stranger, and the eagerness of the
public to reward and encourage enterprise, procured him at once both
applause and promotion. His march to Quebec gave him fame, and the
plunder of Montreal put the first stamp to his public character. His
behavior, at Danbury and Saratoga once more covered over his crimes,
which again broke forth in the plunder of Philadelphia, under pretence
of supplying the army. From this time, the true spring of his
conduct being known, he became both disregarded and disesteemed, and
this last instance of his treachery has proved the public judgment
right.

When we take a review of the history of former times it will turn
out to the honor of America that, notwithstanding the trying variety
of her situation, this is the only instance of defection in a
general officer; and even in this case, the unshaken honesty of
those who detected him heightens the national character, to which
his apostasy serves as a foil. From the nature of his crime, and his
disposition to monopolize, it is reasonable to conclude he had few
or no direct accomplices. His sole object was to make a monied
bargain; and to be consistent with himself, he would as readily betray
the side he has deserted to, as that he deserted from.

But there is one reflection results from this black business that
deserves notice, which is that it shows the declining power of the
enemy. An attempt to bribe is a sacrifice of military fame, and a
confession of inability to conquer; as a proud people they ought to be
above it, and as soldiers to despise it; and however they may feel
on the occasion, the world at large will despise them for it, and
consider America superior to their arms.